#wardensgaze

[talysings]

Harmony and Disharmony

(Special thanks to Lady Sif @whitherwanderer for the screenshots!)

The Harmony Festival this year has come and gone. It was stressful in preparation, but I think in the end everything seemed to go very well--with the festival, at least. I had some sadness following it, but  . . . well, I’m ahead of myself.

So we all came together at Moraby, and there were shops and games and such--and, of course, performances. So many! All the different races, all celebrating things about themselves. Mostly not at the expense of anyone else, but not entirely.

Savo had a very edgy song for me to sing. It had the F word in it multiple times. The subject was also the oppression of the Keepers by the Gridanian authorities, so this was risky subject matter. I took out the F word, of course, because hello, it’s me. She wanted me in quite the outfit as well, but I’ve been trying to put Sela’s advice into play when it comes to costuming, even for performance, and keep it separate from myself.

The song was angry, and I was really getting into it. The crowd seemed to like it, also, I could feel an energy in the air. And then it happened--the last F word slipped by! I was starting to get legitimately angry, and it just popped out when I came to it. I was so embarrassed, but I held it together and took my bow. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else.

Savo was on after me, and her songs were as usual great. She had to be pretty tired, as she has been organizing the mooncats to prepare for this performance on top of doing her own things. Eao and Cael, the “Poisoned Apple,” sang several songs about being Ishgardians. They were crowd favorites as well, and and represented the Palazzo Aldenard well.

There were so many performers I can’t list them all, and maybe not even remember them, even the ones I know! It was crowded. The Roes were wonderful, with their folk music, and the Keepers amazed all with their incredible synchronized dancing! Kurenai rocked out for the Raen, Sif represented for the Highlanders,and Pepeko and Kikilu were proud Lalas. There was even some Xaela girl who I guess was visiting and agreed to sing a song. Oh, and, umm . . . there were Hyur. Kidding! They were great too, and I don’t know how Romeo had time to put songs together when he was organizing so much of this thing.

S’hayla was there with Fhey, and we started talking before the show. And we kept talking during it--well, whispering, we aren’t rude! I have to say, this is the longest I have ever talked with her. She’s always seemed nice to me, and I figured we had some things in common, as she is at almost every performance I attend or perform in. It was fun. I’ve been quite sad lately, and it was nice to laugh.

But this is where it got a bit tense . . . well, more than a bit. When the show was over, S’hayla left, as did most people. Vylette had come in pretty close to the show starting, and I hadn’t really had the chance to say much to her. I wanted to go over and tell her she was good at her performance last week, but I figured I would tell her after the performances were over. 

I started to hear Vy talking after the show, and it kept me at bay. I thought she was talking about me, but I couldn’t be sure. She was saying things about finding out that someone didn’t really care about her feelings . . . and, well, I didn’t know who else was there that she could be talking about, not that I know all of the people she knows. She was saying this to Mr. Sotore. I was starting to feel really uncomfortable. And then someone said something about my song, and what did Vy think of it . . . and she said she didn’t hear it, because she had to go take a linkpearl call. She knew I was able to hear, she just wanted to hurt me.

Part of me wanted to lash out, because I was really hurt. I tried to think of what it was that made her want to do such a thing. I walked over and told her I thought she was good at her show the other night, and that it was rude of me not to stop by and tell her, and then I said I wasn’t feeling well and headed for the aetheryte. I didn’t see the point in staying around there and hearing any more.

Mr. Sotore came after me, and caught me as I closed in on the aetheryte and fought back the tears. He tried to cheer me up with a flower, and it was a nice gesture. Then Vylette came down, and one of her friends from Epoch, and there I stood, crying, in my overly revealing costume. It couldn’t have been more awkward.

Vylette said she wanted to talk, and I agreed to it, despite Mr. Sotore and the other woman whose name I do not know telling me it might not be wise. But she seemed calmer after Mr. Sotore had spoken to her, so I took the chance to find out what I had done.

I guess she had seen S’hayla and I talking, and it really bothered her. She thought I was flaunting a new relationship in her face or something, and as she had been careful not to do so to me, she took it as a betrayal. Now, I know that wasn’t the case--S’hayla and I had just bumped into each other and started talking. I would never do something like that to hurt someone. But when I looked at it from her perspective . . . I mean, if it had been me that arrived later, and I saw her laughing and talking with someone . . . standing close to each other, and whispering . . . well, it would have bothered me. And yes, I would have thought it was callous of her to be so friendly with me right there. Even though we are not dating anymore. I wouldn’t have said the hurtful things she did, though, I would have just slunk away to the exit and left. But I at least understood what brought it on. When I explained things, it was better.

And she finally told me some of the things that have been haunting her, though I won’t put them down here as it’s not my place. I did my best to comfort her, as much as she would allow anyway. I’m always going to care what happens to her. She is, as I have said before and now know to be even more true than I thought, in a very similar place to when I was her age. I hope she is able to find peace quicker than I did.She at least has the gil to get some help. That wasn’t an option for me. I don’t know if what I said to her had any effect, but I hope it did. Everyone is broken in some way.

S’hayla said something quite wise to me. She said that even though we have endured difficult things, in some ways we should embrace them, as they made us what we are. I guess that’s true, though it is hard to forgive some of the things that were done to me, or to my friends.But it does help somewhat to think of that. I am stronger than I ever would have been if what happened to me hadn’t happened. I value that strength.Was it a good trade? Of that, I guess only time will tell.

I think it’s time for a fishing trip. Fishing helps everything.

[ffxivtribehydrae]

AESTHETIC BUILDER

Template found HERE.

Pretty fun! The only I wasn’t sure what to add was texture... But he works with leather a lot so there we go! Hair was terrible to find.

Image Sources: Accessory Season Home Texture Animal Element Hair Complexion Wardrobe

More aesthetics: @hydraesthetics

Tagged by: @actualkomodo (thanks!)

Tagging: @wardensgaze @adellennehocoleux @neoma-eltanin @ghostlyfoxangel and anyone who wants to do it!

[house-mercaiges]

The Omen’s Root

(Below is the transcript of Charlemont’s most recent reading at the @dragontreelounge Poetry Night on December 17th.)

With a measured, unhurried gait, Charlemont steps onto the stage in a white overcoat and buttery black boots.  With each footstep comes the gentle jingle of sterling chains against sterling buckles, and the soft pad of weight against wood.  He turns his broad shoulders toward the audience at his stop, golden eyes surveying and drinking in the scene.  As always, he allows the room to quiet completely, in no hurry to begin his poem against anything but silence.

Slowly, Charlemont licks his lips, letting them part and remain so for just a moment before beginning.  His voice is deep and clear, warm but warning.  "I have met witches, and ghosts that speak in three languages..."  His eyes hold no one's gaze for more than a moment as he continues.  "...Murmuring backwards up hallways,"  His voice caresses the next sharp syllables, enunciating in a gentle rhythm.  "...and back-down the up-stairs, feet tracking truth onto my father's sister's floors." 

Charlemont closes his eyes then, letting his hands fall limp by his sides, then rise slowly, palms toward the ceiling.  "I have heard thunder from below and earthquakes warn with hymns from above," he recites, voice heavy with the mystery of his words, "heralding whispered secrets... like heart-beating."  Char's eyes re-open and focus on one person in particular.  "Like wing-beating."  His gaze moves to another.  "Like child-beating."  And another once more.  Golden eyes narrow ever so slightly, and his voice softens, burdened with the subject matter.  "Leaving marks."

With a fresh inhale, he begins to pace slowly and enumerate on his fingers, one by one.  "I have seen your daughter in the river, your cousin in the cellar, three mothers clung together in prayer..."  His cadence is changed now, stringing the words along like a nervous market list.  "...wandering moors of stone and cursed hallways."

His steps halt and his posture sags - just a touch - as he lifts his long, elegant fingers to rub at his temple.  When he speaks again his voice falls quieter and more solemn.  "I have stood beneath the death moon, listening to her milk-white psalm through pine branches bowing heavy under late snow..."  Charlemont looks down at the floor then, and his next words are a mere murmur.

"...Scorched earth beneath my feet."  He tilts his head to one side, then rolls it to the other before stepping back to the center of the stage.  For a moment, he says nothing, waiting once again for the lack of sound in the room.  His eyes burn with an unnerving intensity into one person after another, and when he finally achieves his desired quiet, he licks his lips and speaks once more.

"I now cling to seven sounds an hour, hurling heartbreak through mirrors and pride through back doors."  Char's nose tilts upward, and he looks down it at the audience.  Pausing for only a moment, he speaks his last line.  "I speak to ghosts and burn witches' bones in my hearth."

With a gentle nod, not a bow, he thanks the room for their attention and turns, leaving the stage with the same gravitas he entered with.

(Original poem, The Omen’s Root, by yours truly.  It was so nice to see everyone tonight and listen to great performances!  @house-vexile @housealderscorn @mugishalffull @ethereal-anomaly @snarkyelf @the-hitless-swordsman @elegant-etienne​ @wardensgaze and anyone I’ve missed!  Feel free to tag yourselves!  Poem minus all the emotes underneath the cut.)

i have met witches and ghosts that speak in three languages murmuring backwards up hallways and back-down the up-stairs feet tracking truth onto my father’s sister’s floors

i have heard thunder from below and earthquakes warn with hymns from above heralding whispered secrets like heart-beating, wing-beating, child-beating leaving marks

i have seen your daughter in the river your cousin in the cellar three mothers clung together in prayer wandering moors of stone and cursed hallways

i have stood beneath the death moon listening to her milk-white psalm through pine branches bowing heavy under late snow scorched earth beneath my feet

i now cling to seven sounds an hour hurling heartbreak through mirrors and pride through back doors. i speak to ghosts and burn witches’ bones in my hearth

[neoma-eltanin]

Meeting the Mun

Rules: Tag nine people you want to get to know better!

Relationship status: Obsessed with Pepsi soda.

Favorite Color: Ohhh hard question, I love colors... but I especially love blue.

Lipstick or Chapstick: Lipsticks are lovely, but I tend to use chapsticks more during winter. Lipsticks are for when I wanna be pretty.

Last Song I listened to: Bedřich Smetana - Má Vlast II. Vltava – "Moldau"

Last Movie I watched: Chicken Run

Top 3 TV Shows: Face Off, The Great British Bake Off, Antiques Roadshow (sorry, I don’t watch many TV shows regularly haha)

Top 3 Characters: (S-sorry, I tried but I really don’t know lol)

Top 3 Bands/Artist (right now): Melanie Martinez, Eivør, Imagine Dragons

Books I’m Currently Reading: The Book Thief, The Ancient Magus’ Bride

Tagged by: @kulain, @eastern-skies, @adellennehocoleux, @smokespun, thank you! ♥

Tagging: @nightmaze, @ffxivtribehydrae, @riskibusiness, @oyuudatass, @knifewaifu, @shirtlesslizard, @nebula1984, @lavendernest, @geisterfuchs, @nan-ofyourbusiness, @lorythas, @una-xiv, @tsukito-xiv, @runic-keyblade, @hithren, @lockerinannis, @mugishalffull, @snarkyelf, @wardensgaze, @ishgardianskypirate, @dantroziman, @tuftananke, @pldonthestreetsrdminthesheets, @aetherochemistry, @ghostlyfoxangel, sorry if any of you have done it already!

[mikhasunthistle]

Thanks to glitch-smart people!

@wardensgaze (who tumblr won’t let me link to, grrr),  @liasahrgo, @kulain , @aurou, @fair-fae  and everyone else! Turns out I had too many clickable items in my house. I decimated my party room/basement (*sniffle*), but now my flowers load. 

Hi flowers at the top of the steps!

[salt-moon]

The Catte In The Bucket

( @bexyamalaryssia​ was kind enough to host a wee story-telling get together yesterday, and Corwynn had a story to tell.  Hold onto your drawers, kiddos.)

Corwynn stood and headed for the stage with a little grin on his face as his friend Raven said a silent and rare prayer to Halone. Corwynn had access to so many stories he'd prefer remained mysteries. 

"Right.  So.  This ain't no inspirational tale or nunna that.  No nice poem or fairy tale.  Just a dumb little story about me.  And why?  I'll tells ya why.  Cause 'at one over there..."  He pointed at Raven.  "...He's always gettin' the brunt of my story tellin."  A grin from the dark haired Elezen in the corner.

Corwynn chuckled softly.  "We spend a lotta time together so we know a lot of embarrassing stories about each other, yeah?  And so when I tell fings to people, offentimes they's about Raven, and not so flatterin'".

From across the room, one Zandros Bastion, a writer himself, offered up, "Pain shared is pain lessened".  The moon catte agreed instantly.  "See??  That's what I say too, mate!"  Raven pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh gods."

A shake of that blonde head, and his ears flickered happily.  "Nah, but really, I give him too much shit.  The other day he was talkin' to some girl and when he introduced us, I was like ‘Oi, ain't that the one you said had her toes too long for you to even think about datin'?’ He turned about six shades of red.” 

"But anyway.  The point is that today I ain't gonna tell a story about him.  I'm gonna tell a story about me, a right embarrassin' one, to boot.  And!  One he ain't never heard."

He cleared his throat and his tail swished lazily along the wooden floor.  "I was a right young thing, maybe... 2 or three cycles, right?  Now, I was adopted when I was new-born, so I lived with all kinds of races, and was brought up in Gridania.  I fink at that point I'd just been toilet trained, right?  Seems about the right age."

"I didn't know nothin' about peein' in the woods or doin’ your business where you had to.  I always used a toilet, of course."  Corwynn tilted his head a little bit in thought.  "Hm, maybe I was a bit older.  Anyroad..."  He licked his lips and sighed, but then grinned.

"Me dad was out in front of the house.  We'd just come home from a trip to the markets, and I had to go real bad, like.  So I was tuggin' on his pants leg sayin' "Dad, dad, unlock the house, I gotta go!" 

"He was talkin' to one of his mates who'd gone with us, and you know parents, right?  Adults is gonna talk whenever they feel like it and for as long as they feel like it.  So I kept on tugging, and he kept on sayin' ‘You can hold it, just wait!  You're a big boy, right?’

Corwynn snorted.  "Nah, mate, I couldn't hold it.  I'd had like free or four chocolate eft milks that morning, they wasn't no holdin' it.  Not to mention... I had to go number two as well."  He gives a little side eye.  "I fink maybe I was a little... milk-intolerant or sommat." 

"So finally me dad says like, just jokin', right?  ‘Go on 'round back, they's a bucket out there you can use.’  Now... me bein' a little kid, right, I don't know what sarcasm is."  Corwynn shrugged.  "I had to go, so 'round the house I went." 

Across the room, Raven widened his eyes and barely contained a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand.  "Oh no.��  Zandros commented all too accurately, "Poor bucket," and Corwynn couldn’t help but snort and look over at him.  "Mate.  You got no idea."  He grinned back at the crowd then.

 "I mean... it's like a toilet, right?  You can sit on it!  And like I said, I was a little kid, so I didn't know no better.  Me own favvur said to me ‘go and poop in this bucket’.  Well, mate, so that's what I did.  I found that bucket and yanked my shorts down and sat on it and did my business."

By this point everyone was laughing...  Bexy, Adelle, Shay... even Dacien in the corner gave in to a little snicker.  Gods, was he smiling?

Raven sank his head into his hands.  “You didn’t.”

Corwynn just grinned.  “Oh I assure you I did.”

"Aaaaanyroad, a little while later me dad hears me screamin' bloody murder, right?  Just waaaaaiiilin' my fool head off.  Him and his friend, not to mention three of my sisters and my mum, come runnin' 'round the back of the house.  What you reckon' they saw?"

Bexy murmured as she listened.  "...Twelve."

"Go on then, Raven, what you reckon they saw?" Corwynn asked.  He knew Raven was enjoying this.

"Ahhh," he managed to reply, fighting the tears.  "I'm going to guess...a cat stuck in a bucket."

“Yer too fuckin’ right.”  Corwynn grinned at his bestie.  "A cat stuck in a fuckin' bucket.  I was sunk down in it too, ass first, all the way to me knees, mate.  Red faced as the day I was born, cryin' my eyes out.  Sandwiched like a damn fold-out bed!"

Adellenne burst out lauging, Raven tried in vain to be silent, his face red from the effort and tears in his eyes.  Dacien covered his mouth and stifled a chuckle.

Corwynn sighed and shook his head.  "Oi.  Me dad is angry, me sisters is laughin', and the only one who would help me out was me ma, who yelled at me dad for bein' a smart-ass.  Needless to say, I needed a hosin' off after that, and dad didn't tell me to shit in buckets no more."

"Oh gods...." Raven managed, while regaining his composure. "Do remind me to mind my phrasing from now on." 

“I think no one realizes how literal children are," Adelle offered, beaming.

Zandros grinned so hard that a tear ran down his face, scribbling something down. "Inherited sharp wit."

Corwynn gave in then and chuckled.  "Anyroad.  I just wanted to give ya'll a bit of a laugh and show Raven I can make a fool out of myself just as good as I can make a fool outta him."  He grinned over at Zandros.  "Oi, you gonna put that in a book?  Get ya a good laugh, I bet.  You welcome to."  He winked and hopped down off the stage.

"Some fine Gridanian storytellin' for ya."

( I had so much fun.  Thanks to everyone who came, and to @bexyamalaryssia​ for hosting!  @adellennehocoleux​ @neoma-eltanin​ @ffxivtribehydrae​ @housealderscorn​ @quills-and-curiosities​ @moengeim​ @wardensgaze​ @mugishalffull​ )

[talysings]

Ramen!

S’hayla came over to  sushi-side of the world, as Savo calls it, and we went to visit a local ramen shop. I had wanted to check it out ever since Kara brought ramen to the cheerleaders at one of the blitzball games, since this is the shop it came from. 

She came by my apartment, so I finally got to show it to someone. She is the first person who came to visit me since I moved over here. She liked it, and said it reminded her of some things about growing up over here. 

We walked over to the ward where the shop was, but oh my goodness, were they busy! There was only one place to sit when we went in. I asked if they had takeaway food, and they said yes, so we ordered and took it outside. They had some nice tables in the yard, and the weather was nice, so it seemed like a good option.

The food was really good, just as I expected. If I go back, I will need to remember to get there earlier, as clearly this place is popular! We talked for a while about this and that, and just enjoyed some friend time. I do think I talked too much, though, so I will need to do more listening if we do something again sometime.

S’hayla and I both had new hairstyles. That’s kind of funny! Must be something in the air.

[talysings]

Recovery Interrupted

So I returned from the Sagolli, and I saw that the Ashen Enclave had their clinic open. Considering the state I was in physically, I decided it would be wise to have them give me a look-see. And I figured while I was there, I could ask about having a test run to see if I am able to have children.

I still don’t know whether I should have kits, whether from adopting or from pregnancy (assuming I am even able). I’ve thought about it in the past, but usually only a passing thought, as I was on the road so much. Lately, I think about it more often, as I’ve written before. But I also have concerns.

In the first place, if I decided to do something like this (and I’m only thinking, I’m not doing anything imminently), I would most likely be admitting that I am going to be alone for the rest of my life. I mean, I have friends, but I doubt anyone will be too interested in dating me if I have a kit at home. It’s not like they are knocking my door down to date me right now, after all. And if I was able to ruin things so spectacularly with Vylette, with whom I had so much in common, how likely is it that there is someone else out there who also wouldn’t mind an already-burgeoning family? So, by doing this, I would sort of be closing the door on the remote possibility that I might meet someone. I’m not sure I am ready to close that door yet.

Second, I am sort of questioning my motives. Yes, I’ve thought about children in the past. I think about them a lot in general—children, I mean. I think it’s because of the way I grew up. It’s why I donate to orphanages. I want them to have a better life than I had, to have better chances. I’m not criticizing my mum, she did everything she could for me. And I think . . . I think I could be a good mum. I know I’d really try. I know I’d love them. But . . . my question is, is the reason I’m thinking about this so much lately because I am afraid of being alone? Am I trying to plug a hole in my life by having a child? Thinking to myself, well, here’s someone who has to love me? I don’t think so, but  . . . it does seem like the kind of thing one might hide from oneself.

Third, I have obligations at the Palazzo. I’m not sure how they would feel about me being pregnant, which would clearly limit my performances for some time. I have responsibilities there. They might not feel like they could keep me on retainer if I can’t contribute. And without that, I would definitely have to go back on the road more often, which would also be difficult if I were pregnant. I don’t know, to be honest, I didn’t read the contract that closely when I signed it, which was probably unwise. I was just so excited to receive the offer.

So, I guess I have to figure things out before I make any decisions. But I wanted to know all the options, so I visited the Ashen Enclave, as I said at the beginning. S’hayla was there, which was nice, as I was nervous and she was a familiar face. And she and Abelaire, who I also know a little bit, took me to an exam room.

I told them I had been through some difficult physical experiences lately and wanted to make sure everything was in the same place. They checked me out and found I was super dehydrated, so they injected me with fluids, and gave me some vitamins and such. But, they found no permanent damage, which was a relief. They said I should go home and relax for a few days, no exertion until I ran out of the vitamins.

So I asked them to run the test. I explained that I had been assaulted when I was 14, and that it had not been treated at the time, so I wasn’t sure if permanent damage had been done. Abelaire offered to get a female chirurgeon if I would be more comfortable, but as S’hayla was there, and she was being so comforting, I felt all right about it—especially as the test wasn’t going to be long.

I’ve seen S’hayla around for ages. She goes to a lot of the same events as me. I have often thought about introducing myself, since I saw her so much, but of course that didn’t happen. However, since she brought Mana to meet Savo and I was there, she and I say hello to each other when we show up at the same place. So, better late than never, and it was nice that a friendly face was in the room for this test.

I won’t get the results back for a while. I guess I’ll have something to think about when they come in.

When I went upstairs, Fhey was in the atrium, no doubt trying to pull some sort of scam on the staff. With her was a tall, dark Keeper who I discovered was her sister Ayelle, in from the North Shroud. They were arguing about something. I didn’t get all the details. Fhey asked if I was headed home.

I had thought about dropping by Epoch to see Vylette play, but I thought she would be in the middle of her set by the time I got there. Also, although she came to see me before I left for the desert, I wasn’t sure how she would feel about me being in the audience. I decided to sit in the back so as not to be a distraction of any kind. I probably should have gone home, considering the instructions I had from the Ashen Order, but  . . .

I looked a sight. My skin was dry and peeling, I had sand encrusted on my clothes . . . I hoped I could find a dark corner, but I went. Fhey and Ayelle met me there. I gave Fhey some gil for drinks, but I just wanted water. Vylette was already playing, as I had feared. Her playing was magnificent, of course. She has a pretty devoted group that seems to show up every week, one of whom . . . well, maybe I’m wrong. But their gaze . . .

When Mai and I parted, I never saw her again. Not because I was avoiding her or anything, but we just never ran into each other again. I’ve never seen her at an event, or bumped into her on the street. Perhaps she went to Othard . . . I know she had things she wanted to deal with there. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen her since. So I have no idea how it would feel to run into her after everything now. Would she be friendly, or bitter? Would I be either of those things?

I’ve seen Vylette twice since . . . well, since what happened. I wondered if after the desert I would feel differently toward her. It doesn’t seem like it, my heart still feels how it feels. Hopefully it’s easier for her. Sometimes, I wish I could get drunk.

So I made it home, took my vitamins and slept. When I got up, I spent the day doing a whole lot of nothing. I read, I napped, I ate, I drank soooo much water . . . I went into my hot spring outside and relaxed.

Now, for some people, this might sound really good. But I’m not used to being so inactive. I like to relax after doing something. Not training feels odd, for instance. Maybe I don’t want to be pregnant after all, considering the obvious limitations that would eventually place on my mobility.

I was suddenly attacked in my hot spring! Now, to give myself credit, between the noise of the water flowing in the hot spring itself, and the sound of the waterfall nearby, I did not hear them sneak up on me. It was Ayelle, and she was looking for Fhey, and for some reason was convinced I was hiding her. She threatened me with a sword.

I was not in the mood to be threatened at home. She had grabbed my hair and dragged me into the house, and I looked for opportunities to disarm her, which eventually presented themselves. We ended up scrapping all over my house—quite literally, there is mud everywhere, things are broken, everything was knocked out of place, my brand new mattress got ripped open and feathers are everywhere—it was bad. Finally, I gave her a dragon kick to the midriff and she sailed down the stairs into the basement.

I stumbled down to where she lay, and took away all her weapons. I tied her wrists, then set about treating her wounds. She had a fever, so I put a cold cloth on her head and changed it when it warmed up. I am no chirurgeon, but I know a few things from the battlefield, and from patching myself up on occasion. She had a gash on her head which I sewed up, and her shoulder was dislocated. I gave her a belt to bite down on, and popped it back into position. Then I gave her some fish soup and water.

I only did any of this because she was Fhey’s sister. I was now covered with scratches, and had needed to exert myself when I was supposed to be recovering. This means it will likely take me longer now to get ready for my trip to Meracydia. So I am annoyed with Ayelle for attacking me unprovoked, for not listening to reason, and for calling me a liar under my own roof, in addition to slowing me down in my pursuit of Regier by adding to my recovery time. Grrr.

Fhey showed up then, of course, because why not? I won’t get into details at this point, but it has something to do with a task Fhey’s people have for which they need her, and Fhey’s unwillingness to go and do it because they have treated her poorly in the past. I cleaned myself up and plopped onto my brand new, all-torn mattress and told them to work it out for themselves. And I went to sleep. They were gone when I woke up. I have a lot of clean up ahead of me.

Maybe there are downsides to having a family after all.

[talysings]

Blitzball, and Moving

My apartment is feeling a little more comfortable now, though it still really needs decorations—some things on the walls, some flowers, etc. And it’s smaller than my house, obviously, but I think I can be comfortable for the time being. I lived on the road and in inns for years, and this place is at least my own, so while it may seem odd for someone of wealth to be living so simply . . . well, I’m still not used to all that money anyway.

Shirogane is quite beautiful. I wrote a song about it when I first journeyed here, about two turns ago. It’s so vibrant in ways unlike any Eorzean city. There is a lot of red in Shirogane and Kugane both, and that’s my favorite color, so that is also a positive quality in my book. There are lots of places to fish around here, too, and you’d be surprised what you can catch even in Kugane’s harbor!

Blitzball is one of the reasons I’m over here, and so far, I think it’s going quite well. The other cheerleaders have been very kind to me, and really helped me get more comfortable. It takes a lot out of me, inside, to have to smile sooooo much for so long . . . it’s a different kind of performance. I still don’t understand all the rules, but I can be loud, and my legs are quite strong, so I can leap and jump as good as the others even though they have the vigor of youth. I guess I have the vigor of  . . . maturity?

I came here for other reasons, of course. I just really feel like I need a change. When you’re around people who know you all the time, it’s hard to change, because they expect you to be a certain way, and you feel like you want to be that way for them. But I’m not really happy much, these days. After my father died, it really felt like I had lost everything, and I was worried then that my heart might never recover. I still do. I honestly don’t know if it can be healed. But I know it can’t happen if I am the same old Taly everyone expects all the time. The same old Taly who is foolish enough to think she might find love someday.

But I don’t know who I want to be. It would be easier if I did. All I can think to do is try and change my ways, and see what happens. Try new things. Go new places. It’s a double edged sword, being here. On the one hand, I’m pretty anonymous, so if I go to a shop, the shopkeeper doesn’t recognize me, nor do the vendors selling food in the streets. I can walk anywhere and just . . . relax, and be whoever without judgment. On the other hand . . . I’m shy, and meeting new people has never been easy.

It was actually here that an old friend of mine, Dylan Thorne, told me something that I still remember. We bumped into each other at a festival here, and she carted me around with her for a bit. I, of course, was being shy and reticent and standing around alone. Dylan was much bolder than me, a quality which I envied. I commented on it, and she said every day when she went somewhere, she made a point to walk up to one person she didn’t know, and start a conversation. Now, for me . . . well, that prospect is terrifying. But I’m going to try to do it. I don’t know if it will help me, or change me, or what, but . . . well, what I’ve been doing with my life, outside of the Palazzo, isn’t working. And if I’m going to be alone, as seems to be the case . . . well, at least hopefully I will have a lot of friends. Wait . . . that’s a contradictory statement, but I think you get what I mean.

Oh, and I finally did get some clarity on S’hayla. We’ve been hanging out a bit, and I ran into her and Mana out by Bentbranch in the Shroud (I had to make a run back to buy some chocobos for my company). And after some conversation, I definitely got the message that she wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship. Now, this is as I would have expected, to be honest, but others had expressed that they thought otherwise.

It’s probably just as well. I was in a relationship recently and messed it up, which is what I’ve done the other couple times I got remotely close to anyone. I’m not sure what it is I do wrong, but it must be something. And also, Fhey had said that S’hayla would eat me alive . . . now, I don’t know exactly what that means, but it sounds bad. Also, Fhey isn’t the best source for information on suncats, who she seems to think have sex fairly non-stop. I mean, how would they get anything done? And if I’m half suncat, then why don’t I have that inclination? In any case, it was a nice thought, since I see her so often at things and therefore we must have a lot in common, but to any outside observer she is obviously out of my league. But she’s still an awesome person, and she likes to fish, so hopefully we can hang out even more. Luckily, I found out the lay of the land soon enough that I hadn’t said anything stupid yet. I don’t think. I hope not, I need more friends that fish.

So, I have to go back to the Tempo Rubato this week and do a performance, and I’m still deciding what songs to sing. It’s an all acoustic night, which is basically a night of my favorite music! Hopefully, I will do reasonably well. Then it’s back across the pond to Shirogane. So much travel now, with this move!

Time to take Cinnamon for a walk. I think she misses Fhey, though with the things Fhey was teaching her, a separation might help keep her out of trouble!

[talysings]

Searching, then Fishing . . . and Flan

I found Vylette! I got word from the doorman at her apartment in the Goblet that she had asked to have some things forwarded to an address in the Mists. I immediately set out to find out if she was there.

I found her outside a house, which apparently she has purchased. She seemed to be surprised I had been searching for her, and that I had gone to so much effort to find her. So, while I was greatly relieved to see her alive and in good condition, it was a bit frustrating that she was so calm about the whole situation. I guess she just didn’t think anyone would bother looking. But there was no way I wasn’t going to look, of course.

She seems to really be at a crossroads. She seems, as I have said before, to be in kind of the place I was in pretty much when I was her age. I’ve no doubt that the circumstances are different, but still. I told her that I knew it wasn’t much help, but that I’d been through a similar time, and just wished I’d had one person who seemed to care if I lived or died. And in her case, she does have someone, as I certainly don’t want her to disappear. 

She at least agreed to maybe see someone and talk about her problems. I said I would see if I could find out someone.

I went to the mixer Crescent held for Menphina Madness this year. I saw S’hayla there, and I asked her about someone for Vylette to see, although I didn’t use her name. She said she would check into it. She also told me my test results had come back. It seems if I wanted to get pregnant, it isn’t impossible, but it might be complicated. There might be a special diet, extra bedrest, etc. to make it happen. Well . . . that was better to hear than that it was impossible, I suppose. It’s good information to have, in case I do at some point decide to pursue that course of action.

S’hayla had written to me recently and asked about getting together for a bit of fishing. We went to the river in the Lavender Beds and fished and talked. It was nice getting to know her better. She’s been through some things in her life which seem pretty difficult. I think she must be a very strong-willed person, to have come through them with such a positive attitude and mature outlook on life.

She also brought goblin flan, apparently produced with less damage this time. It was delicious! We took it and sat by the fire in my yard, since it was not far from the river. It started to rain, but it turns out that we both kind of like the rain--at least, I don’t mind it unless it gets really cold. And we talked some more.

I think she is a really good person. She opens up her house to strangers who need help, to let them recover and get back on their feet. It makes me feel a bit selfish, to be honest. What have I done with my money? Sure, I donate to orphanages, but other than that? I mean, when someone needs help and I am there, of course I offer it, but I don’t go looking for people to give a leg up to. She’s pretty inspiring in that way. Hopefully, we can meet up again some time.

Prom tonight. Guess I’ll go fishing.

[ffxivtribehydrae]

What's Your Fatal Flaw? - Dusk Hydrae

Quiz here!

Tagged by: @red-dawnbringers 

Tagging: @pldonthestreetsrdminthesheets @neoma-eltanin @riskibusiness @rinoasdream @locke-rinannis @hithren @wardensgaze @adellennehocoleux @bexyamalaryssia @cuffles @ffxivaltaholic

[house-mercaiges]

horror aesthetics

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. paranoia. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes.bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes.babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes.paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. suspicion. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance

Tagged by @season-of-maha​ (in a roundabout way)  This was so perfect for here instead of @smokespun​!  Thanks so much for the tag!  ♥

Taggng:  @stab-sister​, @housealderscorn​, @snarkyelf​, @wardensgaze​, @duskrecluse​, @isarmont-sorel​, @eorzean-wayfinder​ (For Gale?  Or whoever you like!), @moengeim​, @sylvain-tolbert​, @rinrin-rinalys​, and everyone else who wants to do this!  Tag me so I can see your answers!  ♥

[house-mercaiges]

Ohohoho, @heresy-hut is at it again, this time to get a Grandpa clear for @quills-and-curiosities!  But the really rad thing is that @mugishalffull, @wardensgaze, @meganemiqote, and @rinrin-rinalys got clears too!  @housealderscorn, @auliander-ffxiv and Faeron Rinimitz tagged along as well and fun was had by all. :D  Thanks for coming, guys!!  ♥

[house-mercaiges]

Vervain Was Not Enough

(Below is the transcript of Charlemont’s most recent reading at the @dragontreelounge​ Poetry Night on May 10th.)

Attired in austere black, the broad-shouldered Duskwight stepped onto the stage with a quiet tap of his boot.  He strode to the center and took his place there, unhurried and absent of expression.  For a moment, until the din of the crowd died down, he glanced down at the nails of his right hand, thumb from his left rubbing over them not casually, but with thought.

Once the noise had abated, Charlemont lifted his chin and laid his golden eyes upon the room.  They flicked from one patron to the next before finally resting on one patron in particular.  With a slow inhale and a lick of his lips, he began in a saturnine croon.

“I know your name from stories my mother told to me.”  His face remained stoic, void of emotion to the point of eeriness. “Beneath my skin the sermon grew roots.”  Despite his lack of expression, one hand lifted to curl at the fabric of his shirt, just over his heart.

“I held fast to her grandmother’s grandmother’s old tattered quilt.”  A pause then, and Charlemont’s fingers loosened as he blinked slowly - a second pause when they closed, only to reopen with a hint of nostalgia.

His voice chanted in its odd cadence, not quite a poem or a story, not quite somber or enthused.  “Six times under a gibbous moon your fables came to be.”  A faint tilt of his head was the first real movement he made since he’d began.  “My sister and I curled about, nesting like foxes against your burning thunder.”

The smallest curl to his lips appeared, and Char’s body turned to face another side of the room and repeat his wisdom.  “I know your name from stories invoked on bleeding lips…”  He licked his own then, as if to taste a metallic tang from them.  “…petal-thin and poisonous, stealing silence…”  Hawk-like eyes narrowed.  “…reverent to each syllable of you.”

Charlemont closed his eyes and took a great, deep breath, turning back to the center of the room and curling one hand into a loose fist.  “Six times, six times,” his voice boomed suddenly, then retreated back to near lassitude as he opened his eyes again.  “The wet earth swelled and broke open upon your breast…”

A certain sadness crept over his face then, and his eyebrows pinched closer together.  When he spoke again, there was a certain veneration to his voice, quiet and humble.  “…and she anointed my wrists with mud pulled from your feral heart.”

“And so you came.”  The simplicity of those words echoed in the room, and he let the idea hang over the crowd for a quiet moment before he continued.  And when he did, his cadence quickened, more insistent and hungry.

“I have let you lead me down pathways lined with violent truths or beautiful lies only because I know your name from stories my mother told to me.”  He paced as he spoke these lines, almost ranting, before he finally stopped again and turned to the audience.

Charlemont waited for another hush, rapt attention, before his voice dropped quieter.  Lower.  “But I am sure that it was death that built your house…”  Again, the corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly, but in an ironic sort of regretful smile.  “…and that your religion exalts us all as ghosts.  Beholden to your promises.”

His shoulders sagged a bit then, and he sighed.  When he lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, he realized he came with it tied and simply slid his palm back over it.  “Falling sweet asleep in the star-dark, candles pool lampblack into the corners of my eyes…”

“I dream.”

“I hear it whispered.”

“I know your name.”

The imposing Duskwight remained in the center of the stage and let his eyes touch each soul for a brief, uncomfortable moment before he finally lowered his gaze and retreated.

(Original poem, Verain Was Not Enough, by me.  Thank you so much for coming, my friends.  @quills-and-curiosities @housealderscorn @oleandre-ffxiv @ethereal-anomaly @neoma-eltanin @ffxivtribehydrae @sylvain-tolbert @ladyrivienne @adellennehocoleux @bexyamalaryssia @house-vexile @mugishalffull @savagehymn @snarkyelf @wardensgaze @auliander-ffxiv @krick-ff14 @kasumi-ffxiv and anyone else I might have seen and forgotten!  You all make Poetry Night so much fun!)

I know your name from stories my mother told to me beneath my skin the sermon grew roots I held fast to her grandmother’s grandmother’s old tattered quilt.

Spoken six times under a gibbous moon your fables came to be my sister and I curled about, nesting like foxes against your burning thunder

I know your name from stories invoked on bleeding lips petal-thin and poisonous stealing silence, reverent to each syllable of you.

Six times, six times The wet earth swelled and broke open upon your breast and she anointed my wrists with mud pulled from your feral heart

And so you came

I have let you lead me down pathways lined with beautiful lies or violent truths only because I know your name from stories my mother told to me.

But I am sure that death built your house and your religion exalts us as ghosts beholden to your promises

Falling sweet asleep in the star-dark Candles pool lampblack into the corners of my eyes and I hear it whispered I know your name.

[salt-moon]

Fashion/Appearance Stats - Francette Dardenau

BODY.

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Toned thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Toned arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned Stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby stomach. Soft stomach.  Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame ( 5 ft 4 or shorter ). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Thigh brows. Small waist. Thick waist.Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulder. Narrow shoulder. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

HEIGHT.

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN.

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Soft.

EYES.

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

HAIR.

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Buzz cut. Undercut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blondette. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown.Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS.

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there (two tattoos). Multiple. No tattoos. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing(s). Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angelbites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercing. Branded (family brand/tattoo)

COSMETICS.

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make up.

SCENT.

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat.Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Clean scents.

CLOTHES.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight / formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports t-shirt. Sweatpants. Tank top. Fur. Faux fur. Leather. Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxi dress. Sundress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress / skit. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. hoodie. Harlem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt.Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors. Naked.

SHOES.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Barefeet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes.

Tagged by:  @poe-lhyzeal (Thank you! ♥ ) Tagging:  @housealderscorn @mugishalffull @ethereal-anomaly @quills-and-curiosities @riskibusiness @season-of-maha @ishgardianskypirate @wardensgaze @punchycatte @lokiofishgard

[salt-moon]

Charlemont:  Magalie, you cannot kill the maid because she was unable to get the wine stain out of your blouse. Magalie:  Yes I can, she’s my maid. Charlemont:  No... no.  You can fire her, you can’t kill her. Magalie:  Why not?  You’re done with her. Charlemont:  ...How very dare you. (Actual headcanon conversation that happened last night between myself and @housealderscorn. XD Oh, and guest appearances by @quills-and-curiousities, @wardensgaze, and @rinrin-rinalys there in the background!)